Celebrating my 74th or is it 73rd at the writers group

THE BEEHIVE

Meow, says Simba the purring cat.
Here they come again.
Whoosh!
The door opens with a flourish.
Our Beatriz of the Argentine
sits like a queen on her palanquin
still fighting for the life of our planet.

Is that Rem in his twirling chair?
He thinks himself odd. Is buying thoughtful
gifts and pens for everyone odd?
Is writing deep yet hilarious prose odd?

Linda Barrett often brings her mother Jane.
What a pair they make. It's great to be a
comfort to your mother. Few people could stand it!
A sci-fi composer, a poet, a gift-giver, Ms. Barrett
with her comments writ in dark black is perceptive,
suggestive, and rarely wrong. Who would think a
dainty lass like Linda can write a sexy line or two.
What's said in the Hive, remains in the Hive.

Martha is back. She must have heard the cheers
We want Martha! We want Martha!
Like Athena, who sprang from the head of Zeus,
Martha's characters walk across her forehead, unseen,
then spring to vibrant colorful life in her stories,
her memoirs, her poems.

Ken Ivins, who ministers to the poor of Kensington,
resembles Santa a bit, with his hair as white as
powdered sugar, and a penchant for telling stories
with music attached. Oh, clever, He, your Italian
Meatball soup was delicious. Two heaping bowls for
our hungry writers. Remember, though, we have no idea
what "starving" means.

Ruth arrived in her black beret, carrying a bag
with her new short story, Brian and The Ferris Wheel.
Not a buzz was heard in the Hive, while she read it.
"Draft" is the key word here. Inconsistencies will be
rectified. Food will be added like cotton candy,
funnel cake, and Diet Coke, which Rem imbibes.

The Almighty, if there is one, blesses our group,
including Donna, Bob and Judy, not able to attend,
as we gather in our every Saturday pow-wow
sharing our work to the waiting world.

***
My gift to the group was the above poem.

***
The group was less than 'gaga' about my new short story BRIAN AND THE FERRIS WHEEL, but I really like it, so I rewrote it today.

Natch, my upstairs computer wouldn't cooperate so I had to type the entire story from the beginning. This means copying it line by line.

I was so ... what's the word.... disgusted?

Gonna watch Little Women now on my upstairs TV while riding my bike along with the girls.

Later, love!